


... Or Does He?

by eloquentmydear



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Robert Sugden, Canon Divergence, Cock Warming, Crying During Sex, Daddy Kink, Denial of Feelings, Emmerdale Big Bang Round 2, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hotel Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Not between Robrence or Robron though, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Robrence, Self-Denial, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Some Fluff, bottom robert, it's a very brief mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 14:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloquentmydear/pseuds/eloquentmydear
Summary: When Lawrence tries to seduce Robert in the hotel, Robert’s phone doesn’t start ringing. He battles with himself over a long-denied desire for Lawrence, the pain of losing the last man he loved, and his broken self-esteem.





	... Or Does He?

**Author's Note:**

> Named as a 'fuck you' to the Emmerdale official Youtube channel's video: 'Lawrence Wants to Make Love but Robert Doesn't Want to at All'. Cover by @nvrtickleadragon on Tumblr.

 

* * *

 “I’ll be back later, yeah?” A touch to Lawrence’s arm and the man’s hand found his chest. So, he still had the hots for him, did he? God, he was going to be easy. He always had been. With an old closet-case like him, those issues he had, Robert held all the power. So what if the man looked at him as if he wanted to devour him, make him cry? He could barely imagine doing it while hammered! He’d always be too scared, too haunted by his past, too “damaged” as he’d put it. Robert didn’t have to give anything up because Lawrence was never going to take, though it’d been obvious for years what he wanted to have. And so the plan was hatched.

* * *

 “You’re my rock.” Admittedly, the hand on his shoulder had caught him off-guard, just a little bit. Not so much the touch – they’d always been a bit handsy with each other – but the reach Lawrence had made for his far shoulder, arm near wrapped around Robert’s chest. He was bolder now, was he, thinking he’d already had his hands on the blonde’s body? Robert didn’t dwell on it, took control of the situation again, leaned in and _damn it_ , nearly had it when the brat walked in.

Retrospectively, perhaps Lachlan had done him a favour. Lawrence had been even more pathetically athirst since that evening, barely waiting for his daughters to leave the room before putting a hand on Robert or divulging hushed words to him. It seemed as though he valued his company like oxygen.

Still, Robert held the power. The older might initiate a touch or two, but he couldn’t so much as allude to sex without stammering on his words, even when he thought he’d been there and very much _done_ that. Which is why it came as all the more of a surprise when Lawrence’s eagerness burst forth in more sense than one.

* * *

 The hotel in Hotten was picturesque, one might say romantic, and certainly atypical for a corporate gathering. Noting the chandelier above him, Robert got directions from the front desk to the room booked under 'White' – the Willow Suite. _Clearly Lawrence is aiming to impress_ , he thought, as he went by an ornate dining hall. _The client must be big money if he was willing to fork out this much for a meeting room_.

A passing staff member carrying plates reminded him how hungry he’d been on the drive, and he hoped however he was 'needed' by Lawrence it didn’t prohibit lunch. He wasn’t sure what to expect, Lawrence hadn’t advised him to plan ahead, but one way or another he hoped it would lead to a 30% share. No, not hoped – he’d make sure of it.

What he definitely couldn’t have planned for was Lawrence stood by a queen-size bed with champagne. As comprehension dawned on him, he thanked god that rose petals had been excluded from – and clothes had been _included in_ – the scene. Well. _That’s_ how he was wanted. It explained why Lawrence had opened the room door with such a fretful expression, even when Robert had hinted a smile at him.

He froze before the four-poster, dumbfounded. “We’ve got a meeting in a bedroom?” he attempted, barely exhaling a nervous laugh.

“We do.”

 _Shit_. “W-Where are the others?” He heard Lawrence take an unsteady breath behind him.

“There are no others.”

 _Double shit_. He made a few slow steps towards the windows, trying to recover from the shock, putting some distance between them and moving away from the bed.

He had to hand it to Lawrence. Not many people could surprise Robert midway through one of his schemes. He considered numerous variables, made plans A through to F. The older man’s spontaneous sexual brazenness had not been prepared for, to say the least.

“Drink?” He took the offered glass, resisted the temptation to down the whole thing. “You fancy a bite?” Apparently Lawrence _very much_ fancied a _bite_. Right, he needed to get out. Quickly. Preferably without sabotaging what had got him there in the first place.

“Actually, I-I’ve got a few things I need to do,” he tried to make his excuses without upsetting the man, but a hand briefly touched his arm, urging him to wait.

“Just… Have a seat, please.” Lawrence’s tone was nigh-on begging to stay and… _Talk_.

He obeyed, and as quickly as he had, he wasn’t sure why. But he’d handled critical business propositions, he could handle this proposition too. Probably.

“I’ve been… Feeling quite bad about yesterday,” Lawrence began. “Worried, actually. About how I’ve made you feel.” _Where was this going_ , Robert deliberated, _and why does it involve getting me into bed?_ “Undervalued.”

“Oh, right.” He arranged his face into something more attentive and less ‘deer-caught-in-the-headlights’.

“And… Frustrated. Well, I feel the same way too.” He couldn’t prevent throwing up his eyebrows at that, thankfully Lawrence too distracted by the sound of his own voice to notice. ‘Frustrated’ was certainly one word for _this_ outburst. “Well, not undervalued, I mean. Although, well,” Lawrence laughed weakly, “there have been times,” and Robert laughed along encouragingly, “many times, when I’ve thought that I— But that’s not w-what I—” The man huffed into a laugh, and Robert almost pitied him. “Actually I’m, uh, I’m quite nervous.” In turn, that made Robert nervous, and he searched his face for a hint. _Nervous about what?_ Did he even want to know? “You _deserve_ to have whatever you _want_ from life, Robert.” The sincerity both staggered and nauseated him.

 _Focus on your objective_ , he reprimanded. “Well, the—the offer from Kath is really quite —ʺ He tried.

“Yeah, but Kath’s offer takes you away from here. Away from where you want to be.” Plainly obvious was the unsaid ‘away from me’. “I’ll match it.” Fake surprise. “And you can stay here, yes?” He couldn’t quite keep the smug grin from his face, a hint seeping out, though it was immediately terminated by the elder’s next move.

Lawrence ran his eyes down, reached for him, took a solid hold of his arm, and breathing seemed a little more challenging for Robert. “You want me.” _Christ_. If it was possible for his chest to constrict any more, it just did. “And I want you.” No idea what his face was doing, he tried to form something resembling agreement as Lawrence’s eyes pinned his in contact. “And I’m finally ready to—to, to…” Robert gulped. He knew what stuttering meant. “To do whatever I _need_ to do to make that happen.” He nodded a little.

 _An idyllic hotel in the Yorkshire countryside, a necessary catalyst for **it** to happen?_ He was still getting his head around the idea. _Where was Lawrence getting this stuff, the Hotten Courier?_ The man had actually gone and booked a luxury double room with the intention of… Having at him. Could Robert really criticise, with the hotel rooms that he and Aaron had debauched? Yes, he could, he figured – he and Aaron were different. This was… Lawrence. Lawrence White, who couldn’t think to discuss sex without faltering, had still led him to his current predicament; sat facing a pre-debauchery mattress, being grasped by his expectant debaucher, and endeavouring to avoid becoming the debauchee.

 _Christ, focus_ , he shook himself, breathed, found some one-syllable words he remembered. “Yes, but…” He gestured, not actually having a point to elaborate on.

“Obstacles, yes,” Lawrence supplied. Robert ran his tongue over his teeth, noted the uncertainty in the other man’s posture. “Uh, the girls,” he took a heavy sigh, “Lachlan.” No way would the little psychopath stab Robert in his sleep after that revelation, absolutely not. “They’ll accept it or they won’t.”

“You know that they won’t,” he retorted softly, matching Lawrence’s tone.

“And if that’s the case, I’ll deal with it,” he insisted, much to Robert’s chagrin. “It’ll be tough. And it’ll… Take them some time to come around, but,” he turned to him, “it’ll also be worth all the trouble we cause, won’t it?” He grinned.

“… Yeah,” Robert eventually rasped out, entirely wrung for words, and they both huffed a laugh, Lawrence’s in relief, Robert’s in disbelief.

Lawrence smiled, almost dreamily, but it seemed he’d finished his exposition for now. Robert took the moment to recollect himself and breathe, looking out at the sprawling jade fields behind the man opposite to avoid his deep, probing gaze. He offered Robert food again, which he accepted, telling himself he would satiate his appetite and then leave. He absolutely _needed_ to leave. _Go get it somewhere else_ , part of his brain yelled, _you could go **anywhere** else for it_.

He hadn’t been with anybody for what felt like forever. He’d only just gotten used to being treated tenderly when Aaron was being carted off to prison, and then he’d never savoured it when his husband came back, because he wasn’t worth it. He didn’t deserve the way Aaron had held him and touched him, not after what had happened, so he’d rejected it. And now it’d been so long since he’d been wanted, been caressed. It wasn’t hard for him to pick up a companion for a night. At least, it hadn’t been, a long time ago. It was a skill he hadn’t exercised for… Well, years now, so he’d probably be rusty, but it wasn’t like he was bad-looking or couldn’t charm people.

There was something far greater stopping him, though. He’d given up more to Aaron than to anyone else in his life. To go from their all-consuming, open, expressive, compassionate intimacy to a thoughtless, guarded, detached, casual liaison resembled the impossible. He couldn’t go to some stranger and expect to be satisfied by them. It took him time, patience and trust to relinquish the safety of control and surrender to his innermost wants. That could only happen with someone who he shared familiarity with, who he’d suffered expenses for, who had made sacrifices for him.

 _Get out,_ his head demanded again once the food was gone. He and Lawrence had eaten in relative silence, aside from the older enquiring about his morning and the roadworks on the drive down to the hotel. At some point, rain started hammering on the windows. It was all rather domestic. Aside from the bed a few feet away. That Robert kept gawking at. It was easier than watching Lawrence ogle him with hearts in his eyes.

“You’ve gone very quiet,” Lawrence mused.

“Yeah, I’m… Thinking,” Robert responded truthfully, catching his eye.

Lawrence looked down with a murmur. “I’ve done nothing but since yesterday.” Robert eyed him carefully as he breathed a deep sigh. “For quite some time, in all honesty.”

He jumped on the chance. “But have you really thought about the impact?” The older man tilted his head curiously. “Lawrence, I’ve caused your family a lot of upset. I wish I hadn’t,” only a partial lie, “but I can’t take that back. And, I dread to think I might cause more.” Maybe a little bit more of a lie. Why was Lawrence still looking so relaxed?

“We’re the same, you and I, you know?” _For god’s sake_ … “I’ve spent an entire lifetime steadfastly refusing to set foot on a path that I know I should’ve chosen.” Robert smiled a hint at that, nodding to himself. _I always should’ve chosen Aaron_. “The path that chose me. And you?” Lawrence chuckled. “The _lengths_ you’ve gone to to avoid the same thing.”

A whirr of Chrissie, Aaron, Katie, Andy, Paddy, Chas, his father, the farmhand, and so many other regrets circled in his head, and undoubtedly it wasn’t the time to consider that mess, so he fled. “D’you want a drink?” He tried to recuperate again; putting distance between them felt relieving. Yet he still couldn’t conjure an excuse to leave.

“We’ve been afraid of the world.” He feigned interest, pouring champagne. Alcohol had been the answer before, but regrettably he didn’t have any sedatives on him to aid the process. The sound of Lawrence advancing on him from behind had his breath catching in his throat. “But you’ve stopped being afraid. You’ve embraced who you are.” He rolled his eyes at the cliché, not ready to look the man in the eye again just yet, fighting to fill his lungs. “And I want to do the same.”

Another deep exhale, and he turned, found Lawrence even closer than expected, met his eyes briefly, then watched the older trap his fingers against the champagne glass.

“I was very drunk, our first time,” Lawrence murmured, drawing Robert’s attention back up to his face, and hummed a discontented laugh. “Our only time.” The blonde glanced away sheepishly, tried to swallow down his remorse and embarrassment but was struck by how dry his throat was. “I suppose I needed to be.” Robert’s jaw tightened as Lawrence moved the glass out of his hand and away. “But this time,” he continued, taking the younger’s hands in his and clearly gathering his courage, their eyes locked in contact, “I want to be sober. I want to remember everything.”

Robert was mortified to feel tears stinging his eyes, his face pink and hot. When had someone last spoken to him like that? When had anyone spoken to him like that? The closest, obviously, had been Aaron – nearly all moments of sensitivity, of fragility, in Robert’s adult life had been with him – but Aaron didn’t say things like that. He was affectionate, of course he was; and tender, sometimes touching Robert so delicately it hurt; but he didn’t do so well at being demonstrative with his words – not that Robert could criticise.

To have someone so explicitly, romantically mushy about him was an atypical thing to endure. It rattled him, it unnerved him, because part of him liked it, really liked it, and he hated that fragment of himself. Hated that he had any gratification in his life after all the damage he’d done and lives he’d destroyed. The lives he was currently destroying. He didn’t deserve to enjoy things. It was best that he play the villain, benumb himself to genuine fulfilment, fabricate superficial happiness from money and alcohol and cheap sex, and disengage from the world.

Yet, he wanted sincere comfort anyway. Wanted it more than anything. _Because you’re selfish. You’ve always put yourself before others and you’ll always be this egotistical._ He was greedy. Aaron had given him more joy than he’d ever deserved, and he hadn’t even treasured _that_ closely enough, or it’d be the mechanic’s coarse thumbs stroking the backs of his palms, not Lawrence’s.

It scared him, too, that Lawrence bloody White, of all people, had elicited a spark of… Pleasure in him – the first he’d felt in months – in spite of the farcical nature of their 'relationship'. There’d always been something there; he couldn’t fake it from nothing. Something appealed to him about 'flashing his tail', as Lawrence had once put it, at his boss, and the man had aged well. He suited a beard. He was well-dressed, well-travelled and well-read, but he was self-made. He’d toiled in manual labour, he’d worked hard, he’d fought his way to the throne atop the food chain, and he didn’t often take it for granted. He was pretentious, certainly, but he had a simple heart underneath; Robert had seen plenty of it when the man was with his daughters. Himself, he’d lapped up the tension when the older man argued with him, enjoyed challenging him and being challenged in return. They’d had a strong dynamic, bouncing off one another and flirting as Lawrence had trained Robert up in the business, and even as Lawrence’s jealousy had built over Chrissie, they’d still been an unstoppable team in a boardroom. And Robert had still been prepared to get bent over a desk if the moment occurred.

He’d honestly expected it, when he’d first been hired – to be the boss’s plaything. Frankly, he’d thought that was why he’d been employed. It had shocked him when his first month as Lawrence’s apprentice came and went without the man so much as making a pass. Time had gone by, and though the older man was partial to raking his eyes over Robert’s body and putting his hands on him much more than was strictly necessary, he’d never made a proposition, and Robert couldn’t work out his game. He’d tried upping his own flirting, saw it returned but never consummated; tried lessening his flirting, and saw Lawrence do the same; even euphemistically propositioned him, and it had gone completely over the man’s head. Eventually he’d figured it out – there simply wasn’t a game. He hadn’t understood why it had been like that until Chrissie had grown close enough to trust him with their family secrets, told him Lawrence’s history.

That felt like a lifetime ago. A lifetime from where he was now – at the foot of this ridiculous hotel bed with Lawrence practically pawing at him and wooing him into it. _Trying. Trying_ to woo him into it. It wasn’t going to happen. Robert was _not_ that stupid. Desperate, but not stupid. _Excuses, excuses, quick._

“I do—I don’t want you to have any regrets,” he ventured.

“I’ve led a _life_ of regrets.” Alright, scrap that.

“I can’t be the person that keeps ruining your family, Lawrence,” he tried instead, making to pull his hands from their joined hold only to have the man grasp them more securely, “I’m—I’m done with all that.” He could already tell from Lawrence’s commiserative expression that it wasn’t working. “And now with the baby…”

“You’ll be part of the family.” He was running out of ideas fast. “You’re nervous; I get it!” Lawrence laughed sympathetically, “My heart’s racing!”

He clutched at the straw. “Well, that’s not good! No, no, sit down,” he ushered, finally freeing his hands.

“No, I’m _fine_!” Lawrence guffawed, and to Robert’s exasperation joined their hands again. “I’m the best I’ve been for, well, hm, maybe ever!” He felt the man stroke over his wedding ring and smiled weakly, thought back to the times Aaron had slipped it onto his finger – the best _he’d_ ever been. “You accept me for what I am,” the older continued, regarding him with an intense expression, one that made him feel scrutinised. “Even _dear_ Ronnie could never do that.”

He almost felt sorry for Ronnie’s sake. Yet part of Robert understood exactly what Lawrence was talking about, in the most severely painful way. Perhaps that’s what he’d meant when he’d called them ‘the same’. In the end, Aaron hadn’t been able to forgive him. Not that he should have, _you messed up_ , or was supposed to, _you ruined everything and you hurt him_ , but… In any case, Aaron hadn’t been able to accept Robert’s truth, _your terrible, selfish, asinine truth_ , and it had broken them.

On the contrary, for reasons not yet known to man, Lawrence had looked at the mess his life was in, the mistakes he’d made and the pain he’d caused (even to Lawrence himself), and fallen wildly in love with him. It wasn’t that that was better or nobler than Aaron’s decisions – in fact it was far more stupid, in Robert’s opinion – but it was… Queerly intoxicating, and part of Robert was transfixed, against his greater judgement. Greater judgement was telling him to be terrified, _someone loving you that much, it’s not healthy,_ and _you’re not worthy of it,_ and _it shouldn’t be **him** , _and _you’ll destroy yourself, you always do,_ and _he’s old enough to be your grandfather, what’s wrong with you,_ and _you’re the same nasty little poofter you were when you were fifteen,_ and, loudest of all, _you swore you’d never let anyone close ever again. Why is **he** able to pry it out of you?_

The welling-up of his eyes was painful, it made his throat feel tight and every muscle in his body tense. And then Lawrence was there again, bringing him back to the room, whispering his name, and Robert hated how quickly he responded, like he was clinging to the man’s every move, because he wasn’t, he _wasn’t_ —

Lawrence moved closer, cupped his face with the gentleness that one would catch a snowflake, afraid it would melt. “We can do this,” he whispered and leaned in, and Robert closed his eyes, and then it happened.

The first touch of lips against his was soft, and contrasted with the bristles of Lawrence’s beard – longer than Aaron’s – that made contact with his cheek and chin as the older slotted their closed mouths together. It was almost chaste, but the unyielding overtone was palpable. His hands slipped up further towards the back of Robert’s head to bring him closer, their lips pressing together more firmly, and as his bottom lip settled between Robert’s, the younger man made a small sound, half-sigh and half-moan.

Lawrence gave an “Mm?” in response and edged his body closer, and Robert could hear the self-satisfaction in it, could hear the intended _‘You like that, do you?’_ , and was embarrassed that it made his stomach flutter with _want_ as he brought his hands to rest over Lawrence’s clavicles. _You’re so easy, you’ve always been such a slut_ , his brain condemned, but it went quiet as the older man parted his lips and caught Robert’s top lip between his, and Robert grasped Lawrence’s bottom lip in return.

Lawrence’s teeth grazed ever so slightly, controlled, against his mouth, and it made Robert’s hands fist in his navy blazer, his cock taking definite interest. He sucked on the older man’s lip, felt him grunt and suddenly bring his hands up to Robert’s, unclasping them from his jacket so he could shrug it off. They both worked at the buttons of Lawrence’s waistcoat, _too many layers_ , as their mouths enveloped each other, and it too got carelessly dropped to the floor.

His hands slipped up Robert’s shoulders under his grey coat, nudging it back and down his arms, and Robert willingly let it drop, making an impatient noise and shaking it off his wrists where it got caught. Lawrence snickered into his mouth, replacing one hand on the back of his head and putting the other on Robert’s hip, keeping him close but urging him to step backwards and around the end of the bed. The younger man discerned where he was being pushed and snagged his fingers into the waistband of Lawrence’s trousers, tugging him towards the side of the mattress. He was urged by the shoulder and hip to sit, and Lawrence then nudged his knees apart to stand between them.

Robert could feel the warmth radiating from the man’s thighs on his growing erection, and there was a generous bulge beginning to tent the front of Lawrence’s dress trousers tantalisingly close to his face before the older bent down to resume kissing him. Fingers started unbuttoning his shirt and he pulled it free from his trousers to help, slipped off his shoes, and spread his hands on Lawrence’s hips, a thumb skimming his hardening length. _It’s thick_ , he could already tell, and the thought brought his cravings until full view. _God, I’ve missed the real thing_. One touch alone made Lawrence pull away to bite his lip, and Robert took the opportunity to bend forwards and bring the man’s hips in, pressing his watering mouth to the clothed distention.

“Oh, my boy,” Lawrence rasped, his hands quickly tangling in blonde hair, and Robert could feel wetness seep into his own boxers. He quirked an eyebrow up at him while his tongue greedily lathed the tight fabric, but Lawrence didn’t see it. He seemed to be focusing very hard on not coming, and Robert wondered how long it had been since he’d been sucked off. Decades was a very real possibility. For some reason, it made him feel special. _You’re not_. _You’re nothing_. _No_ , he pushed the thoughts back, mouthed at Lawrence’s now-damp trousers and revelled in the feeling of hardness against his face. His own months without it felt as agonising as decades.

“My – R-Robert,” the man stuttered, drawing him away by his hair, and he looked flushed, aroused but embarrassed. “S-sorry, I…”

“S’fine,” Robert grinned, “it’s flattering.” Lawrence gave him an inquisitive look, and he internally recoiled. “Though I guess it’s not—it’s not me, is it,” he backtracked, down-turning his head and lowering his hands to the mattress, “it’s because you haven’t – s-sober, I mean – for ages.”

“Oh. Robert, that isn’t–,” Lawrence began, touching his fingers to the younger man’s cheek, which made him look up. “That isn’t what I meant, though you are getting me very worked up,” he said softly, giving a slightly mischievous smile. “I meant — well, didn’t you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I heard,” Robert looked a bit puzzled. He liked dirty talk, and he’d gone much kinkier in the past, when he’d trusted Aaron or when he’d accidentally blurted things out years ago.

“What, you didn’t… Mind?” Lawrence eyed him carefully, cupping his chin.

 _You should mind, but you get off on it. You should be disgusted, you’re a freak._ He pressed his lips together shyly, glanced away and shrugged, shuffling backwards towards the centre of the bed. “No, I didn’t.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Lawrence’s gaze heated almost instantaneously and, kicking his shoes off, he used the new space to kneel on the mattress between Robert’s thighs. “You like it; like being my boy, do you?” he purred, crawling over Robert as the blonde lay back.

“Maybe,” Robert whispered, biting his lip and closing his thighs around Lawrence’s hips, arousal flooding through him again like a dam bursting. _Maybe it’ll be okay if I say something, maybe he’ll like it_.

Lawrence kissed his lip free of his teeth and slotted their hips together, and Robert bucked up into him eagerly, holding onto his back, moan muffled between their mouths. The older man separated their lips, watched his lover’s face as he mimicked his motion, rolling his renewed erection against Robert’s, watched his brows furrow with a moan that could be mistaken for distress in any other context.

“You gorgeous boy,” he sighed, repeated the movement. Robert wondered if he was tempted to stay like that, frot them together until Robert agonisingly came in his pants. But he clearly had priorities, as he propped himself up on one elbow so he could undo Robert’s remaining buttons. Once they freed his arms from his sleeves, Lawrence began working on the man’s belted jeans, in the meantime sucking kisses down his jaw to his elegant neck. Going by how he’d gawped at any skin Robert showed, he’d imagined marking it for years, maybe been ashamed of himself for wanting a man – or for wanting _Robert Sugden_ – but not now. He sucked a bruise into it, gently purpling it with his teeth, and Robert made a sound not unlike a gurgle, had his head thrown back and fingers digging into Lawrence’s shoulder blades.

The man kissed over Robert’s collarbone and took a nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his lips before flicking it with his tongue. With a whimper, both of Robert’s hands came up to hold his head in place, and Lawrence seemed willing to gratify him, lathing the flat of his tongue slowly over the nub, which produced a longer, high-pitched keen from him. Sucking on it, he rocked their lengths together again, and Robert tugged him anxiously by the hair.

“D–Nnggh, Lawrence, please,” he choked, supressing certain words that wanted to come out. His cock was so close to where he wanted it, and yet there were still too many clothes involved. “I need you.” _In me._

“It’s okay, boy,” Lawrence sighed into his neck, nuzzling and kissing his jaw, “I’ll take care of you.” He started unbuttoning his own shirt, moving down Robert’s torso. “Trust me.”

Robert wasn’t sure if it was a request or a question, but he moaned a “ _Yes_ ” anyway, delighting in the safety and pleasure of being cared for again, finally.

The older man stood off the bed, making Robert look up, shucked off his shirt, and made to take off the younger’s jeans and underwear, but paused. He ran his thumbs tenderly over Robert’s hipbones, making him buck a little, looking him in the eye. “Is this okay?”

Making another small hungry noise, Robert nodded fervently, so Lawrence slipped both layers down to his ankles. He gazed at the sight beneath him, drinking Robert’s pale body in, touched the light dusting of hair on his thighs as though he couldn’t help himself. He looked enchanted, and Robert’s cock pulsed, more fluid leaking from the head.

Lawrence took a pillow and dropped it at his feet, hooked his arms around Robert’s legs to drag him to the edge of the mattress, then dropped to his knees. Robert’s chest was heaving just at the thought. _It’s been forever_ , his brain sighed as Lawrence worked the scrunched up clothes and socks off his feet, then _fuck, I think I’m gonna come_ as the man unexpectedly parted his arse cheeks. _That or die. Maybe both._

“Still okay?”

“Mhmm!” Robert frantically whined, pushing his arse into the older’s hands and gripping the bedsheets.

He let out an almighty cry when Lawrence’s tongue first touched his hole. The grey man laughed into a moan, sinking into Robert’s cleft enthusiastically and laving the flat of his tongue over his hole to wet him. _I’m absolutely gonna die,_ he thought as he thrust his hips and wailed nonsense, not caring that it was the middle of the afternoon and there were probably guests having lunch downstairs. It didn’t matter, because there was beard and wet heat at his arse, hands stroking all the sensitive parts of his thighs, his lover was groaning like he tasted delicious, and his insides were throbbing with need.

Lawrence took hold of his hips, pointed his tongue, and began to press into his arse, and Robert was gone. He near enough screamed, hips kicking wildly as he came over himself untouched, fingers still fisted in the duvet. It felt like his heartbeat was in his prick, his whole body taut and vibrating with his orgasm, and Lawrence was still there, tongue squirming to open up his hole. Robert let out another desperately throaty shout. It felt like he couldn’t stop pulsing. He gasped for breath and threw an arm over his eyes, putting his feet against Lawrence’s back in a way that somehow soothed him, reassured him that he wasn’t about to shatter and perish.

For a few moments, everything was numb, and then he came back to the feeling of Lawrence leaving a few last licks to his hole before tenderly dropping kisses on his buttocks and thighs. His legs were still trembling, and his pelvis had a pleasant ache in it, but a discomfited heat started gathering in his face. He hadn’t meant to… Go off that quickly. He’d forgotten how embarrassing it was to have that conversation with a new lover, or maybe it was worse because it’d been so long since he’d had to. Had to tell someone that he was very responsive, so sometimes he didn’t last very long, but his refractory period was short so they didn’t need to stop, he didn’t want to. _Too greedy to stop_. Aaron always used to make him come two or three times, sometimes just from fucking him, and his chest ached with how easy things had once been. He didn’t want Lawrence to think that that was it, that it was over already because Robert was too wild and untamed and gluttonous.

But Lawrence – kind, attentive, observant Lawrence – shed his trousers, climbed back onto the bed, and scooped Robert up into his arms, and Robert could feel he was still hard in his front-damp boxers. _Please_ , his mind begged, followed by _greedy slut. Look at the state of you._ He couldn’t make himself look at Lawrence’s face.

“Do you mind?” Lawrence asked before kissing him. “I know some people don’t like to, after that,” he gestured, and Robert shook his head and joined their lips. He’d tasted his own arse on Aaron’s mouth enough times it barely registered. _And he doesn’t want you anymore either_.

Lawrence’s hand ran up and down Robert’s torso alongside the cooling semen splatters. “That was beautiful to watch,” he reassured, and when the younger man still wouldn’t meet his eyes, he laid a hand delicately on his cheek.

“Robert?” He sounded suddenly frightened.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to _—_ …” Robert blurted out before he could stop himself, flushing more. _You’re an idiot and an embarrassment_. Lawrence frowned, tilting his head, so Robert nodded downwards.

“Oh, _Robert_ ,” Lawrence pacified, touching their foreheads together, “don’t dare apologise. You were so wonderful for me, my boy, so gorgeous. Amazing.” The part of himself that he’d always hated – that fed on the scrap given by other people, that was small and pathetic and _needy_ – lit up from the praise and attention. _Make him stop. He’s just feeding your ego. You’re nothing._

Lawrence dragged a finger through one of the pools of Robert’s come almost tentatively. “Maybe you’ll think I’m an old fool, but it’s an honour, you know,” he smiled, and Robert looked up, saw the genuine wonder in the older man’s eyes. It hurt like trying to stare at the sun, but made him smile to himself shyly. Made him feel worth something for the first time in months.

They kissed for a while again, Robert straddling Lawrence with Lawrence’s large arms around his waist, holding him close. He could feel the older’s stiff, fat cock still straining against his perineum, but for some reason Lawrence wasn’t saying or doing anything about it, and it was making him go marginally insane. _He just doesn’t want you. Who would?_ He rocked down against the solid mass, and Lawrence moaned into his mouth, stilling him.

“We don’t need to do anything else, you know that?” He was panting, but Robert’s mind was already racing. _See? He was lying. You’re not pretty. He doesn’t want you. He doesn’t want to have you. Nobody will._

“You don’t want me,” Robert breathed, pulling away, ache in his chest growing, but Lawrence held him in place by the hips.

“I didn’t say that, did I?” he chastised softly. “Robert, I want you very much, but I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Robert let out a breath, relaxed on his lap. “As long as I’m bottoming, I’m comfortable with it all.”

Lawrence raised his eyebrows at him, considered him for a moment, and then ran his hands down to Robert’s arse with a grin. “Really? I might need to hear some more about that.”

Robert grinned back at him, used all of his false confidence. Sex was easier and safer than thinking, and Lawrence seemed to be good at shutting his brain up so far. “I want you to fuck me.”

Lawrence gaped at him, his eyes darkening. “Are you sure? It won’t be too much for you?”

 _I hope it’s **too much** for me_ , Robert smirked to himself, and ran a hand up Lawrence’s neck, pretended he had nothing to be shy about. “I don’t need breaks. I usually come more than once.” He bit his lip, kept talking. “I want it. I’ve thought about it before. For years, actually, back then. I wanted you, want you, a lot.” _What are you doing? Stop talking! He’ll hate—_

Lawrence pulled him in for a hard, biting kiss, and Robert keened into his mouth. _Finally_. Without looking, the older man fumbled in the bedside drawer for something, and Robert heard a cap snap open. Momentarily, he wondered exactly how much Lawrence had prepared for this, but then two wet fingers were circling his rim and his cock was starting to swell again, and one of Lawrence’s thick fingers started sliding into him, and he cried out against his cheek.

“Okay?” He could barely hear it over his own panting. “Robert?”

“Yes! Good!” he bit out, feeling animalistic, squeezing his muscles around Lawrence’s finger. It was always so different to his own, the only thing he’d had for months aside from the toys he had. Sometimes he couldn’t even use the toys anymore. He’d used most of them with Aaron, and even the ones he hadn’t made him think about him too much. It was like he couldn’t escape thinking about him, and he’d end up crying while fucking himself on a dildo, feeling more lonely and unsatisfied when he’d finished than when he’d started.

Lawrence dipped his finger deeper, curving it a bit, and used his free hand to hold Robert against his chest, nosing into his hairline. “Good, relax for me, baby, that’s my good boy,” he sighed, switching fingers to coat all of Robert’s insides with lube, and the words made Robert moan dangerously, made him think about things he wasn’t supposed to be saying.

The grey man gently pressed against his walls, trying to stretch him in the most comfortable way, and Robert absently wondered if he’d read up on it or if Ronnie had taught him. He caught Robert’s prostate on one pass, making him whimper and spasm, and he apologised.

“No, it’s good,” the blonde rasped and took hold of his small cock, tugging on himself and pushing down to Lawrence’s knuckles, “again, more. Please.” Aaron used to tell him off if he didn’t use his manners for Daddy. _No_. He wasn’t going to be like that with Lawrence. _Lawrence wouldn’t want to, you were like that with Aaron and Aaron left you, nobody wants to be with someone as disgusting as you._

He heard Lawrence get more lube, and the pads of two fingers massaged his entrance. He spread his legs further, tried to contract the right muscles to get his arse to ease open, and two fingertips blessedly slipped inside him. The older man grunted in surprise and caught Robert’s lips with his own again, began sliding the two digits deeper.

“Greedy boy,” he whispered against the younger’s lips, watched him for a reaction, but Robert was far more focused on the feeling of opening up to him. “Good, that’s good, do you like that?” he asked, curving to swipe over his prostate, then repeated the motion when it made the blonde cry out and collapse forwards.

“Oh, god! D-nnmm, Lawrence!” Robert clutched the man’s shoulders with both hands, holding on for dear life, whimpering into his neck with each pass of his steady fingers, his whole groin throbbing.

“You like it, hmm?”

Robert nodded frantically, “I do, yeah, yeah, please!” The grey man chuckled knowingly, he was just teasing now.

“Easy, I’ve got you.”

He scissored his fingers a bit, away from Robert’s prostate, and Robert felt weak. He tried to straighten up, but the demanding drive of Lawrence’s broad hand had his body almost out of control, cock leaking again already. He wrapped shaky arms around his lover, pulled him towards himself, and Lawrence – _wonderful Lawrence_ – understood, flipping them over and lying Robert out on the pillows, kneeling between widely spread legs, fingers still in him.

Robert looked at Lawrence’s crotch, the white cloth of his boxers pulled thin and taut against his turgid length, a large damp spot just slightly translucent, framing the swollen cockhead, and the ache inside him got ten times worse, making him keen and squeeze his eyelids closed. The few times he’d caught Lawrence in just his underwear, fabric curving around his generous flaccid cock, he’d thought about it in the most scandalous part of his imagination for weeks, months, hell, years. He started rolling his hips frantically.

“Please fuck me! Please!”

“I will, baby,” Lawrence smoothed his free hand over Robert’s tense stomach, and when Robert opened his eyes, he could see a mixture of apprehension and heavy desire on his face. “You’re not prepared enough yet, I’m not going to risk hurting my beautiful boy.”

Robert nodded. “Just hurry up?” he whined. “Please?” _Stop making demands, you selfish wreck. You’re a disgrace_.

Lawrence leaned over him and looked at him that way he did, with such affection in his eyes, and kissed him. “You don’t have to keep saying ‘please’, you know?”

“I like being good,” Robert panted, gazing into his eyes, and immediately regretted it. _Don’t. Don’t go there. For god’s sake, do you have to fuck everything up?_

The grey man didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed. He grinned into a deeper kiss, running one hand along Robert’s thigh while the other gradually worked a third finger inside him, gentle even in his rushing. He kept kissing him, drinking in his moans, until he could spread his fingers without much resistance. When he sat back, Robert was so relieved he thought he might’ve died. Again. _You should be so lucky._

“Are you ready, my good boy?”

Robert made a starved sound and spread his legs further, piled the pillows underneath him so he could sit up and watch as Lawrence gave him an almost bashful smile and rid himself of his boxers. His long cock was dark with blood, suspended above his thighs but too large to point to his stomach, foreskin taut and glans appetizingly wet. Robert could practically see the veined shaft pulsing, and as Lawrence retrieved more lube, he shoved his fingers deep inside himself, a poor substitute for the older man’s thickness.

“God, please, _please,_ ” he begged. _Daddy, please_. **_Don’t_** _. Don’t say that._ He was so turned on his chest hurt and he couldn’t stand being empty.

The grey man coated his cock with the lube, gave the base a squeeze, wiped his hand on the bedsheet and took gentle hold of Robert’s wrist, pulling his fingers out of his arse. “Robert…” He clasped those hands together, moved closer, and the blonde’s thighs came up around him. Lawrence stroked a thumb over his cheek, cupped his face and looked down at him in pure adoration, shook his head a bit like he couldn’t believe what was beneath him and met his lips again, firm and full of fervour.

 _You don’t deserve this_. Robert’s chest ached again.

“I love you,” Lawrence asserted when he pulled back, clear and unwavering, and it felt like a punch in the gut. _He’s an idiot. He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He doesn’t know how horrible you really are._

Robert’s eyes pricked painfully and his breath was caught on words he couldn’t face saying, want and pain warring in his body. _Everyone you’ve ever loved has left you. No more handing out knives after Aaron stabbed his into your heart. He got you to open up, too, and look what happened._ _The agony isn’t worth it._

But maybe Lawrence didn’t need to hear it, or maybe he knew how hard it was, because he just kissed Robert again, moved the hand that wasn’t linked down to his own cock to angle it, and the blonde twitched when the fat head touched to his wet hole, desire drowning out heartache. “Do you want it?”

The younger man grazed his teeth against Lawrence’s lips as if to reprimand him. “Yes, yes I want it!” He realised how tense he sounded, took a breath and tried again. “Lawrence, I want it. Please.” Lawrence frowned a little at him, clearly wanted to ask, but Robert squeezed his hand, beseeched him with his eyes and whispered to him. “ _Please_. Please have me.”

It seemed to persuade him, and his breath held in his chest whilst he dipped his cockhead into Robert’s open hole. Robert whined as it began to stretch him, closing his eyes and grasping Lawrence’s bicep with his free hand. The ridge of the corona slipped inside and the elder groaned and paused.

“ _Please_ ,” Robert whimpered again, caught the back of Lawrence’s neck with his free hand and kissed him hard and desperate.

“It’s okay, it’s _okay_ , sweet boy,” Lawrence murmured soothingly to him, sounding breathless, “I’ll look after you, I promise. Look at me.” Robert obeyed him. He brought their joined hands up and tenderly kissed the back of his younger lover’s palm. “I’ll always look after you, Robert.”

The blonde’s throat felt raw suddenly, and he tried to swallow against it, nodding a little. Lawrence’s length resumed opening him up, tugging at his rim, and his eyes rolled back in his head. With one of the grey man’s palms pinning Robert’s hand back to the bed, his other large arm slipped under the small of Robert’s back, holding him and elevating his hips to a better angle. A couple more inches and he spasmed and cried out at a nudge to his prostate.

“Yes!” he yelped, tugging on Lawrence’s hair and praying that he wouldn’t stop again, trying to make it clear that he was _more_ than okay and he might die if they stopped now. Lawrence seemed to understand and, with Robert making quite a lot of noise, tightening his pale legs around his waist and exerting his muscles, he sank in until his hips were seated against Robert’s arse with a great groan.

Robert gasped for breath, head whipping back and forth on the pillows. His body was thrumming with pleasure like he couldn’t escape it. Lawrence’s cock was thick enough to be putting a constant pressure on his prostate, and it was making his own hardness weep. Lawrence, for his part, was clenching his jaw tightly, clearly trying to hold off his own climax with Robert’s arse clamping around him.

“Good boy, _god_ , you feel so good,” Lawrence choked out, resting their foreheads together. “So tight for me, just… Exquisite. My exquisite boy.”

The talk pushed him closer to the edge, and he rolled one of his own pebbled nipples between his fingers. “I—I need to come again,” he sputtered quickly, his skin flushing more with timidity. His lover immediately replaced Robert’s hand with his own, crooking his neck to take the other nipple into his mouth, and the blonde moaned appreciatively. He tried to push his chest up towards Lawrence’s touch, seeking the orgasm that was so tantalisingly close. Then Lawrence began to circle his hips with a grunt, and his cock rolled against his prostate, and teeth grazed his nipple, and blissfully it sent him over with a long wail.

It washed over him slowly, making him breathe deeply through it, and he reached down to stroke himself leisurely, cock erupting only a little less copiously than last time. It was like time had slowed down around him as he keened, arse swaying back against Lawrence, the pounding of his climax less frantic than the first, and he tuned into the pleasurably teasing rubs against his sweet spot, the tugging of lips and finger pads against his nipples.

As it tailed off and he came back to himself, Lawrence raised his head and brushed his gasping lips in a soft kiss, hand around his waist caressing his hip, and Robert could feel he still hadn’t come, obviously intent on focusing on the younger’s pleasure.

“Are you alright?” Lawrence whispered slowly, other hand resting over Robert’s thudding heart, fingertips gently patting the skin of his sweaty chest. He looked so concerned, his eyes full of alarm and brow furrowed. Robert didn’t understand. He was still catching his breath, and the lines set into the older man’s face looked hazy and unfocused. He hadn’t blacked out, had he?

“Wha’?” He panted, eyes finally clearing when he blinked. “Yeah, ‘m fine?” He wiped his hand on the bedsheets then ran both palms up and down Lawrence’s chest, about to tell him to move, to carry on and come deep inside his body when the man spoke again.

“You’re crying,” Lawrence stated worriedly, sliding his hand up to cup the back of Robert’s neck, and it was only when his thumb dragged over the blonde’s wet cheek that Robert recognised that he was right. “Did I hurt you, Robert? Was something wrong?” he urgently pressed, leaning down close, looking like he wanted to cover him with his touch and back far off in equal measure.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Robert reassured simply, coming out of his floored, speechless daze, “I’m fine.” Lawrence didn’t look convinced, brought his other hand to wipe the rest of the tears from his lover’s face, so Robert tried to elaborate. “I promise you, I’m good, just a bit… Overwhelmed, I suppose? In a good way,” he quickly added with a flustered, small smile. “I didn’t even realise… I’m surprised I didn’t notice, that’s all,” he breathed nervously, self-consciousness starting to wash his cheeks pinker than the sex had.

How long had he been crying for? Did he look like the ugly mess he usually did when he cried? Had Lawrence ever seen him genuinely cry before? _You’re pathetic. What kind of freak cries from having sex? You think he’ll put up with that, after all he’s done to take care of you? I bet he tosses you out of bed right now for being ungrateful._

Lawrence let out a shaky, relieved sigh, then laughed at himself, and Robert could feel it where he was still buried within him. He’d been keeping his hips frozen still, obviously not wanting to jostle Robert’s sensitive body when he thought he might be in pain. “You didn’t half scare me, you know?” he offered a beam full of adoration, pushing the sweaty blonde fringe away from his forehead. “You must tell me, if I ever hurt you or do something you don’t like. Not just in the bedroom, but at all.” He looked expectant, so Robert nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “I never want to hurt you. I’ll always make it my priority to ensure that I don’t, as best I can, and I’ll make it up to you if I do, I swear it.”

The younger man’s throat felt tight, tears threatening to sting his eyes again, so he flattened his hands against Lawrence’s lower back and tried to pull him into movement. “Come on,” he wet his lips, “you can move. I’m sure you want to,” he tried a grin. He could take it, craved the once-familiar sensation of warm seed inside him. His lower body felt satiated and relaxed, and it was accustomed to the girth of Lawrence’s cock where it had softened some as they talked. It may have been some time, but he well-knew his limits – being taken, hard, regardless of his own orgasms, was definitely fine. He relished it; Aaron had tested that plenty. _And that worked out well, did it?_

“You’re sure? Do _you_ want me to? I really don’t have to, especially if you’re overwhelmed. We can just stop there.” _He doesn’t want you. He doesn’t want someone weak like you. Someone slutty like you._

“I don’t want to stop.” _Stupid whore. You’re the same as you always were. Disgusting._ Robert dug his fingernails into his own palm. “I-if you don’t want to stop, I mean.”

Lawrence seemed to consider him for a moment, then nodded, shifting his weight on his knees. “Tell me if it gets too much, yes? I won’t be offended, or disappointed.” He pulled out part of the way, making Robert grunt, and grabbed the lubricant to drizzle more onto the exposed part of his shaft. It was smooth and a little cool as he slipped back in, and his firm lips pressed a yearning kiss to Robert’s, resting an arm either side of him on the mattress.

The older man began to rock his hips again, measured rhythmic pulses bringing his cock back to its full solid length, and the blonde let out little gratified noises into his mouth, holding on to the back of his head and neck. It felt relieving to get back to the part that Robert was good at – sex instead of talking; tuning out of his brain and into his body. That was, until Lawrence’s thrusts turned long and slow and he resumed speaking between deep sighs.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He began, eyes roaming Robert’s face and chest. “ _So_ beautiful. Do you have any idea how precious you are to me, hm? I want to spend the rest of my life looking after you, I still can’t believe you’ll let me.” He kissed him again, and Robert tried to keep his mouth occupied for the sake of the pain threatening to prick at his tear ducts. It didn’t work. “I don’t deserve you, an old man like me, but I’ll give you _everything_. Everything you could ever want, everything I can give, it’s yours, my _wonderful_ boy. _Forever_. I’ll be yours, forever, and you’ll be mine, for as long as you want to be.”

It scared him, trying to think about forever. It’s why he didn’t do it. Well, he hadn’t before Aaron had come along and changed everything. Forever was a long time to be alone. _And that’s how you’ll spend it, Robert – alone. Always alone. You’ll always find a way to mess things up. You don’t **actually** think this is it, do you? That this will be the fairy-tale ending you stupidly want? You don’t deserve that. You’ll never earn it. You will **never** get it. What don’t you understand? Why are you bothering to hope, to try, when you know how this ends? You fuck it up. You cheat, or you lie, you put someone in hospital – or worse – and then your cold little heart gets broken again, and it’s all your fault. It’s all your fault, because you’re selfish and manipulative. You’re a useless, despicable little queer. You don’t deserve to be happy._

“I just want to do whatever I can to make you happy,” Lawrence murmured earnestly against his lips, brushed a kiss to them. “You _deserve_ happiness, my dear boy.”

Against his will, his vision clouded over with rapidly-formed tears. The older man was gazing at him intently and Robert couldn’t escape it, could only hide behind a hand that he raised to his face. He could feel his chin trembling and he hated himself, hated that he looked so ugly and farcical when he cried, hated that he cried at all. _Real men wouldn’t be seen dead with people like you._ Why did he keep getting so emotional? It was tragic, shameful, pitiable if not for the fact that he didn’t deserve pity. _What kind of spineless pansy are you?_

Lawrence was cupping his cheek as he felt the first wet trails roll down his face, thrusts immediately terminated. “Robert? What is it? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head tightly, whole body tense, but couldn’t hold back the small sound of anguish that forced its way from his throat, and Lawrence looked devastated. _You’re already hurting him and you’re not even trying to._

“Talk to me. You can tell me, whatever it is, you can talk to me,” the older man tried, soothingly rubbing Robert’s arm.

He looked so sincere it made part of Robert feel uneasy, because he knew how this went – it was the same with Aaron. He’d agonisingly find a way to bring words to his mouth, challenge everything in himself telling him not to talk, but it would come out all wrong. He’d sound awful, and he’d be pushed away, because he _was_ awful. He’d always find the way to mess it up, it was how he was born to be. He’d always go too far, and then he’d be abandoned again. A dry sob left his chest.

“Here, just a second, everything’s going to be okay,” Lawrence said softly, patting Robert’s thigh and moving to pull out, but the blonde swiftly grasped for his hip.

“ _Don’t._ ”

Lawrence paused. “It’s hurting?”

“No,” Robert breathed shakily, “I just… Don’t want you to.” It was stupid – repulsive, even – that he was somehow comforted by it, that being physically empty felt like it left more room for emotional pain.

On a handful of occasions, the very worst nights that his brain was tormenting him, he’d asked Aaron to be inside him and just hold him while he cried. At first, he’d adamantly refused, expressed that he couldn’t possibly do it, and Robert had understood. He respected that – with what Aaron had survived – it could be distressing. He’d told himself that it was weird request anyway, didn’t ask again, and tried to forget about it, until it just sort-of happened. As ever, he’d tried to quiet his intrusive thoughts with sex, only for once it hadn’t worked, and he’d started crying while Aaron was buried inside him. He’d asked him not to go, told him how much he wanted it, and the brunette had felt better about it after Robert gave him a desperate kiss. He’d held Robert tight as he cried, clinging to Aaron’s back and silent but for the occasional sharp breath, and the soft cock had stayed where it was put, inside Robert, like it belonged there. It did.

Months later, Robert had asked him how he felt about doing it again, and they did. Being held and filled by the right person, it felt like safety to him, despite how vulnerable he had to be to get there, and only Aaron had been the right person until now. He didn’t even regard it as a sexual act, not really. It wasn’t sex; it was solace.

“Are you absolutely sure? We could come back to it later?”

Robert nodded. “Please stay,” he rasped, and his face crumpled again.

Lawrence gave him a look of sorrow and concern, then settled between his legs once more, cradling Robert’s damp face in his large, gentle hands. “Why are you crying, my boy?” he whispered tenderly, then continued when he got no response. “Is that why? You think that I’m going to leave?”

With his eyes closed, it felt easier to speak, though not much. He couldn’t see how disappointed and angry Lawrence would look, but he still felt the crushing weight of fear on his chest, the noose around his neck warning him of the consequences that _talking_ brought. His hands caressed the skin under them while they still could. “I know you will.”

He felt Lawrence frown and pull back a little to eye him questioningly. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You’ll leave,” Robert repeated, swallowed down the lump in his throat, opened his eyes but avoided Lawrence’s face, “eventually. Everyone does.” Fresh tears tumbled down his face as he stared at the ceiling, failing to feign impassiveness, his breath rattling in his lungs. _You’ve always been a coward._

Lawrence kept one hand at his cheek, and the other began stroking through his blonde locks. “I’m not going anywhere, Robert, I swear to you,” he attempted, but Robert shook away his touches, _they always say that_ , turning his frustration at himself outwards.

“You can’t swear _anything_ ,” he argued. “You’ll go. I’ll push you too far and you’ll go. I always mess up somehow, I always have done.” His tears came hot and painful. “It’s only a matter of time before you realise that you don’t want me either.” He should be appreciating the time he had in someone’s arms, the way he hadn’t done with Aaron because he’d naïvely thought it would be forever, that he’d magically stopped being a fuck-up. He should be savouring every second and committing it to memory. Instead he was making a fuss, trying to flee when it was far too late to save himself.

Tentatively, the older man touched his fingertips to Robert’s jaw. “What do you think you’re going to do, hm? To scare me off?” He asked it as though it were an illogical conclusion, and the younger wanted to be angry at him, but he couldn’t. _You’re already screwed. You’re already in too deep. You’re drowning. Last chance. Get out._

“No, I need to go,” he tried feebly, wiping at his face and making an unsure move to sit up, but Lawrence didn’t move with him. _Really? Your arse is still stuffed with him; you couldn’t make more of an effort? You hopeless little nancy-boy._

“ _Robert_.” His voice was firm but kind, and the blonde sagged back against the bed, fighting the urge to be petulant like he always was when he felt told-off. “I mean it – you can talk to me, it won’t put me off. I _love_ you.”

It stung his heart no less sharply than the first time. _It’s a lie. Don’t trust him._ “It’s all going to fall apart!” Robert baulked, voice wobbling as he struggled for breath, pushing Lawrence away and pulling him closer in the same moment.

“Then let me help you hold it together,” he reassured warmly, bundling his lover up into his arms without objection. Why was he still being so patient? Why was he so stupid? The blonde wanted to shove him away, get him far from the ticking time-bomb that was Robert Sugden.

“I’ll hurt you!” He cried desperately, though he crumbled in the grey man’s encirclement. “You know what I’m like,” he sobbed, turning his head down in shame, “what I’m capable of. You should be as far away from me as you can get.” Not inside me, not around me, not on top of me and in my lungs and in my veins. _Aaron could tell him what a mistake it is to love you._

Lawrence’s palm cupped the back of his head and tucked him against his neck, and Robert could feel his chin and cheek against his scalp. “Sshh, Robert, listen, listen to me,” he soothed, and the younger man could feel the words vibrating in his chest. “ _Yes_ , I know what you’re like. I know your mistakes. I know your deceits. I know your capabilities. _I know you_ , my boy, and I still want you. Because I also know how wonderful you are, how smart you are, how witty, how _devoted_ and hardworking. I know what you’re like when you’re protective, and affectionate, and determined. I know the sort of _brilliant_ person you can be, Robert.”

“And what about when I’m not?” He challenged. “What about when I lie to you, and scheme behind your back, and hurt you, and—and cheat on you?” Just thinking it made him feel sick. It wasn’t something he thought he’d been capable of, before. He still didn’t understand how he could’ve been, even while drunk, and it terrified him; made him feel detached from his own body, made him feel violated with the stupid way alcohol took the reins on his actions, made him feel like he didn’t have a choice. But apparently everyone was right – he was the same scum he’d always been. “What happens then?”

“Then I’ll still love you,” Lawrence answered, and it sounded as though he were admitting to a crime. _Perhaps a crime of idiocy_. “And I’ll forgive you. And for as long as you still love me, you can come home to me.”

 _Home_. He hadn’t had _home_ in so long. Not since his mum had died, really. Everything had gone to shit and it had never stopped being shit, at least until Aaron. The pub hadn’t been _their_ home, it had just been a house they were lumped into. The cottage was _supposed_ to be their home, to be forever, for them to have a family and grow old, but he’d ruined that before it had even begun. _Selfish. Selfish. **Selfish**._

“You can’t know that,” Robert weakly sobbed into his chest. “You can’t know how you’ll feel, how you’ll react. You can’t promise that you’ll _want_ me home.”

Lawrence rubbed circles into his scalp, and Robert could feel that he was soft inside him, nothing but their closeness keeping him in. “No, I can’t. But I _can_ promise you that I’ll _have_ you there,” he said slowly. “I can’t for the life of me imagine not wanting you, not after all this time feeling it, and getting to have you in my arms,” he professed, nosing Robert’s hairline, “but if there are temporary – and I _know_ they’ll be temporary – moments of... Disinclination, then you can hold me to this promise that I won’t turn you away for as long as you love me. That’s all that matters to me, Robert; everything else is up for discussion.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to such an extreme vow, he’d never heard anything like it in his life and he was struggling to process the idea. It sounded too good to be true but for the fact Lawrence spoke so earnestly. It wasn’t an empty promise; it was the most serious Robert had ever seen the businessman. Someone saw enough good in him to offer him an unconditional _forever_. It wasn’t what he was expecting to be offered in the Willow Suite.

Thanking him didn’t feel like a grand enough gesture, but it was the only thing Robert had left to give. He wound his arms around the older man’s middle and hugged him close, squeezed him with his thighs, quietly spoke into his neck. “Thank you.” He tucked in snugly at the junction of his shoulder and kissed the skin as less-frantic tears rolled onto it, and his breaths stopped making his chest tremble.

“I wasted so much of my life trying to make things work that weren’t really what I wanted,” Lawrence elaborated, “I want to put the effort in now that I’ve got something that is.” He dropped kisses on his temple and damp cheek, and Robert moved so they could join their lips. The depth of the older man’s kiss pushed him back against the pillows and he sighed his relief into it, their closed mouths pushing together so hard it almost hurt.

“There’s nothing you could do that would make me stop wanting you,” Lawrence uttered when they separated, and as they met each other’s eyes, Robert wasn’t sure who or what started it but, one of them sparked a flame of desire. “I want every part of you, the darkest parts included. I want you to trust me with them.” The grey man’s voice was huskier, and when he leaned in for another kiss he caught the blonde’s bottom lip between his own, making his insides flutter once more around his stirring cock. He barely pulled away to whisper, “Will you trust me, my boy?”

Robert could only reply with a moan, dragging Lawrence’s mouth back down with a hand on the back of his neck. Lawrence began to make small circles with his hips as though testing if he was hard enough, but his length was swelling quickly, the previous lack of release still in his system. Robert swore he could feel the blood pumping into the organ, he could definitely feel it stiffening and thickening inside him, and with the older man’s tongue flicking at his mouth, it was making his toes curl.

“ _Oh_ , fuck me, please!” he keened as they came up for air, then as Lawrence latched onto his neck; “Daddy, please!”

He didn’t have the opportunity to be embarrassed, to regret, as the older man gave a clearly appreciative moan that vibrated in his skin and a large hand gripped one of his thighs, fingers digging in. Lawrence pressed flush to Robert’s arse, sinking impossibly deeper, and began to thrust in earnest, in a way he hadn’t done before, and Robert trembled beneath him, wordless noises escaping his mouth.

Lawrence slid their panting lips together. “Say it again,” he ordered, a hint of darkness in his tone.

“D-… Daddy,” Robert uttered, and was relieved when a deep sigh of pleasure punched out from Lawrence's chest, watched the older man’s head roll back for a second, eyes closed in bliss.

He set upon Robert’s already-swollen lips with biting, sucking and kissing. “My boy,” he panted when he came up for air, and when the blonde wrapped all of his long limbs around him, he pulled him into an embrace, heads tucked into each other’s necks while he worked away at his well-used arse.

Pulled so close, Lawrence’s stomach was rubbing up to Robert’s sensitive cock, which – to its credit – was definitely trying to get interested again. As it began lazily filling-out, it was as though it hit the ‘on’ switch to Robert’s prostate, and the dick inside him started to drag bliss into his core once again, thighs twitching at Lawrence’s sides and whines building in his throat. The grey man’s pace kicked up a notch, and Robert couldn’t help himself.

“God, _fuck_ … Daddy, give it to me!” He was rewarded with Lawrence’s fingers tangling into his hair, pulling just a bit to make him look at him.

“You want it, baby boy?”

“Uh-huh,” Robert nodded frantically, voice high in his throat, distantly aware that he sounded like a bad porn actor. He _needed_ Lawrence to spill inside him, fill him up. He needed to be claimed by somebody again.

“Well if you can still talk, I’m not sure I’m doing my job properly,” he replied darkly with a grin, and began snapping his hips harder, grunting, making their skin slap as it contacted. One-handed, Lawrence managed to squeeze more lube into his palm, and Robert hissed slightly as the cool fluid touched his small length, but as soon as he processed the feeling, he was being tugged off with short, rapid strokes.

He was shrieking before he could stop himself. “Daddy, _daddy_ , yes, oh!” He couldn’t stop wriggling, fighting for and against the oversensitive touch.

“Good?” Lawrence panted, sweat beading on his chest, shifting when his thighs began to tire, and Robert gave an affirmative noise. “You know... I was reading up on this... For you,” he said between breaths. “It’s been a... A very long time... But I’m glad... Glad that it’s you.” He moaned as if it had only just struck him, and grasped Robert’s hips with both hands, raised him off the bed so he could kneel up and pull the blonde’s arse in to meet his every thrust. “Are you gonna touch it? For me, for daddy?” He swiped a thumb in the hollow of Robert’s hip towards where his wet cock was lying. “It’s so pretty.”

Robert let out an indistinguishable gurgle of arousal, well beyond forming words, and obeyed. He danced his shaking hand across the overworked flesh, circled his thumb and finger to work his foreskin around the tender, seeping head. It made his hips kick and his voice yelp, and this time he was aware as tears overflowed his eyes.

“Good boy, so pretty for me, daddy’s perfect little angel,” Lawrence rambled, his cognitive function quickly slipping away too as Robert’s fluttering arse had him rapidly hurtling towards the kind of orgasm he mustn’t have had for fifty years. His movements sped up, the bedframe underneath them creaking as he pounded into his younger lover’s swollen prostate, and he joined their lips messily, moans bouncing between their mouths. “I love you,” he rasped again, and Robert felt his fingers tighten on his hips. “I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make daddy come, baby.” He watched Lawrence’s facial muscles tense, his expression changing and his eyes becoming unfocused as his rhythm faltered. “Should I pull out?” He asked urgently, words fast, still being conscientious despite how gone he seemed.

“No,” Robert shook his head, barely put-together himself, grasping one of Lawrence’s biceps hard to get the leverage to buck against him. “Come in me,” he whimpered loudly, jerking his foreskin faster so his toes curled and legs tensed. “I love you!” His climax hit him like a train, sudden and all-encompassing, and he near-screamed, eyes rolling back in his head as his little release only managed to dribble out over his fingers.

Lawrence slammed into his quivering hole a few more times before he, too, went over, with a gut-wrenching draw-out grunt. He rutted through it, hips kicking like he couldn’t help it and dick pulsing, and a second raw-throated groan brought Robert back to himself. He felt warm rushes of seed begin spurting deep into him like a heartbeat, and he would’ve started purring if he could, especially when the older man began rubbing the sides of their faces together, needing to drown in their intimacy.

Robert wiped his soiled fingers on the bed and slid both hands up into Lawrence’s grey hair, cupping the back of his head and nuzzling into his beard in return as they panted against each other’s skin. He felt at-home again for the first time in ages, in this strange bed in a posh hotel room in Hotten, still gasping for breath. As their hearts stopped hammering so hard, Lawrence turned his head and pressed his lips firmly to Robert’s, and Robert returned the touch, winding his arms around his back once more, needing as much skin-on-skin as he could get. Large hands cupped his face and swiped the tears away, and they both broke away panting, breathing not quite settled yet.

Lawrence’s face broke into a beam, and Robert couldn’t help but mirror it.  “Are you alright?” He asked, ever attentive, and Robert laughed lightly.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he answered, throat sounding a little raw, tracing circles with his fingertips on Lawrence’s skin. “Are you?”

“The best I’ve ever been,” the older man replied, reiterating his words from earlier and kissing his lover again. He embraced him, and Robert closed his eyes, content to rest there with his warmth and weight on top of him, breathing him in, centring himself.

Eventually Lawrence leant up and patted his thigh. “Am I alright to–?” His eyes flicked downwards, and Robert nodded.

“Yeah.”

Lawrence gently pulled his spent cock out, making a soft sound of oversensitivity, then collapsed onto his side on the mattress beside Robert. The younger man turned onto his side to face him, already feeling seed start to dribble from his body, and Lawrence reached for him, a hand on his spine pulling him in. Robert gladly tucked in against his chest, the fair dusting of hair there grey and soft, and felt the older rest his chin against the top of his head. He closed his eyes, feeling satiated, content, and temptingly drowsy, and Lawrence dropped a kiss into his hair.

“I love you, Robert.”

Robert nuzzled in closer, brow furrowing with worry and vulnerability, and quietly he whispered, “I love you too, Lawrence.”

He felt Lawrence smile against his scalp, drowsiness creeping up on him quickly. “I think I’m going to remember _this_ , don’t you?” the older man chuckled softly, sounding equally tired.

It was about that point that an aching wash of shame constricted Robert’s chest, and though he couldn’t fight his body being dragged under into sleep, his mind wouldn’t rest.

* * *

  _He was getting married. He was in The Woolpack and there were mismatched decorations everywhere and he was getting married. Aaron wasn’t there._

_Lawrence was stood opposite him in a black suit, smiling, as someone pronounced them husbands. Lawrence kissed him, and Robert held onto him._

_The front door burst open. His dad stood there, disgusted._

_“You’ve always been a disappointment, Robert.”_

_He turned and left. Robert ran after him, tears falling, but when he got outside, his dad was gone. The only person out there was Aaron._

_Wordlessly, he was pulled into Aaron’s arms. He was hugged tightly. Lawrence’s voice came from behind his back._

_“You’ve always been a cheat, Robert.”_

_He turned and went back into the pub. Robert ran after him, more tears falling, but when he got inside, Lawrence was gone. The only person in there was Lachlan._

_He was holding a shotgun and smirking. It was pointed at Robert’s stomach. He pulled the trigger. Robert doubled over in pain._

_“You’ve always been a liar, Robert.”_

_When he looked up, he was in his childhood bedroom. He was fifteen. He was crying. He was clutching his abdomen. His dad was in front of him. His dad had hit him. He’d kissed a boy._

_His dad hit him again._

* * *

 A dry sob jolted him awake. The room was dark, the curtains still open but the dales bathed in shadows, and Lawrence was shifting beside him on the mattress, stroking Robert’s arm.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he breathed softly. “Are you okay? Were you having a nightmare?”

Robert nodded, realised Lawrence probably couldn’t see it, whispered, “Yeah.” His throat felt dry. He could tell by the change in the way Lawrence’s hand ran over his skin that he’d be making some sympathetic expression in the unlit space between them. _If only he knew how pathetic you are._

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He considered it, swallowing. “No.” It was just a stupid dream. Nobody would benefit from picking it apart like a therapist. If he could convincingly pretend that everything was fine, then _they’d_ be fine. _And that worked with Aaron?_ Lawrence was more gullible than Aaron. _Lawrence is only gullible because he trusts you._ He desperately needed to stop arguing with himself. “What time is it?”

Lawrence leaned back and fumbled at his bedside table, eventually turning the lamp on and making them both blink. He offered Robert an affectionate smile. The blonde felt chilly and exposed now, lying atop the duvet with no cover for his body, but his lover merely dropped a kiss on his forehead before standing up from the bed, equally nude, and strolling over to his discarded jacket to retrieve his phone.

“It’s just gone seven,” he answered, coming back to the bed, and if Robert liked the masculine view of his long, soft cock hanging at his thighs from the bed of neat grey hair, he didn’t say anything.

He shifted closer to Lawrence’s side, and it made him aware of the dry fluids between his buttocks and thighs. It wasn’t a sensation he was unfamiliar with, not by a long shot, but he liked the idea of a shower. His muscles protested. Maybe a bath _._

“You hungry?” Lawrence asked, stroking a hand through his hair, Robert closing his eyes into the touch – he’d always been weak for it. _It’s time to leave, Robert._

“A bit, yeah. I’m gonna get cleaned up first.”

“Okay,” he smiled, “well there’s no rush. We have twenty-four hour room service.” He rubbed Robert’s temple with a thumb. “In fact, I might join you. If that’s alright?”

Robert put a hand on his thigh, nosing against the nearest skin, breathing him in. It was weird, being like this with someone again. But it wasn’t bad. _It will be eventually._ “Sure,” he agreed.

He moved off the bed and into the bathroom, feeling Lawrence’s eyes on him as he went. He put the plug into the bath, started the taps running and used the toilet. As he added some gel to the bathwater to get it to bubble up, he thought about the last time he and Aaron had shared a bath.

Typically, baths were more Aaron’s thing, unless Robert had strained himself, and most mornings, to save time, Aaron had jumped into the shower with or right after him. Often they’d have a quickie, they’d tug each other off or Robert would get on his knees and put Aaron in a good mood for the rest of the day. They hadn’t bathed together a lot. The shared bathroom of The Woolpack had never afforded them enough time for something like that, they’d only been able to do it in their own home. Well, aside from the first time – when Aaron had stayed at Home Farm over Easter, and Robert had ridden him in one of the large tubs, and then he’d leant back against Aaron’s chest while the brunette held him, and pretended that it was their home instead.

The last time, he’d clung to Aaron’s arms as they’d wrapped around him, afraid to let go and so very close to lost. It had been awful, feeling that it was nearing the end before it did, scrambling to fix it but always failing, making it worse. _That’s what you do. You make everybody’s lives worse._

He didn’t hear Lawrence approach, and jumped a little as large arms came around his middle. He needed to stop thinking about Aaron. A soft kiss was dropped on the curve of his neck, then the grey man tested the water and climbed in, beckoning Robert with a look. He obeyed, settling between Lawrence’s parted legs and turning the faucets off, and the older man sighed with satisfaction as Robert leant back on him. The bathtub wasn’t really big enough for them both, but he didn’t seem to mind, embracing his younger lover and breathing him in, and Robert thought he could feel his cock taking a bit of interest against his back. Robert’s cock took a bit of interest too. They didn’t mention it.

They stayed there for a little while, dozing on each other, Lawrence occasionally running large fingertips over his stomach or kissing his neck and shoulders, then the older asked him to shuffle forwards so he could dunk himself under the water, washing away the sweat of their afternoon. He left the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist, and retrieved the room service menu from the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bath, letting Robert pick what he wanted, then went to order for them.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, leaning down to peck him on the lips, and he pulled the door closed as he left, giving Robert some privacy. _He’s too good for you._

Robert appreciated it as he cleaned away their activities from his arse, and he used some of the provided shampoo – he didn’t recognise it, but it looked fancy – to lather up his hair. When he’d rinsed the conditioner out – Aaron used to lightly tease him for using both, but he liked to take care of himself – and drained the tub, he went out in his towel. The curtains were now drawn closed, more of the lamps switched on, and Lawrence was wrapped in a white dressing gown at their little table and chairs.

“There’s one for you too, in there,” he gestured to the wardrobe, and Robert wrapped himself in it. It was soft and fluffy, and had a little logo stitched on it, and it fit him. Lawrence must have specified their sizes. They matched, and he didn’t know whether to feel silly or romantic. _It’s not too late to run. For his sake, not yours._

He went to the table to sit with Lawrence, but as he passed, the older man caught him by the hips and pulled him onto his knee with a grin. Robert laughed and kissed him, and Lawrence gazed at him, giving him that look of pure unabashed adoration again. _Enjoy it, it’s not going to last._

“Robert...” he began, hand on the young man’s thigh, but then there was a knock on the door. “That’ll be our food,” he said, and called out, “Come in!”

The blonde flustered a bit when the hotel staff, a man in perhaps his early twenties, caught sight of him on his older lover’s lap and abruptly stared back down at the tray of food and drink he was wheeling in. Lawrence didn’t seem to care, stroking up and down his back, and Robert wondered if he was trying to make a point about how 'out and proud' he was now.

He thanked the staff as he cleared up the discarded champagne from earlier and wheeled the lunch tray out of the room, and when the door closed, he noticed the bright flush on Robert’s cheeks. “I didn’t embarrass you, did I?”

Robert bit his lip and got up, clearing their lunch plates from the table and swapping them for the dinner plates on the new tray. Lawrence was watching him carefully. “No,” he said, damned his own unconvincing tone, and Lawrence stood up when he set their meals on the table. Why couldn’t he lie anymore?

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, catching Robert at the waist again, and he looked regretful. Robert had already forgiven him. “I didn’t mean to. I presumed you’d be alright with it, I shouldn’t have. I just,” he shook his head like it was stupid, “I wanted to show you off.”

It shouldn’t have made blood rush south, but it did. He put his palms on Lawrence’s chest. “It’s fine. When you put it like _that_ I don’t mind as much,” he smirked, and Lawrence patted his side with a chuckle.

“Sit. I’ll bring the rest over.”

He sat, and his semi wasn’t very pleased with the distance between their chairs, so he dragged them closer. Lawrence brought water and fresh champagne to the table, set candles down and lit them, and put a small black box in his pocket as he sat. Some kind of gift, Robert presumed. That or a delivery of condoms. _Bit late to worry about safe sex_ , he mused as he sipped champagne.

Lawrence lifted his glass. “To us, and to happiness,” he smiled, eyes crinkling, and clinked it off Robert’s.

They dug into their meals, and as the older man chatted away, the younger started playing footsie with him, half-listening.

“They say this place has a long history of romance, the hotel,” he said at one point, unperturbed by the bare foot against his ankle. “They hold lots of weddings here.”

Weddings. He remembered his dream again, marrying Lawrence. How he’d married Aaron. It was best not to follow that train of thought. He bit his lip and dragged his toes up Lawrence’s naked shin.

The older man eyed him between mouthfuls. “You’ve made me feel like a new man, Robert. Changed everything. I can’t remember ever being this happy before.” He caught Robert’s foot as it slipped up his thigh, thumb running over the sole, and the sensitive skin tingled. Robert thought he might be playing him at his own game. “And I can’t thank you enough for that.” His serious expression broke, and he gave Robert an almost-watery smile across the table.

The blonde returned it, finishing the last bites of his food and downing some water before leaning back shamelessly in his chair, rubbing the top of his lover’s clothed thigh with his foot. He licked his lips. He hoped Lawrence was getting as hard as he was. Refuelled, he really did want a round two.

“We’ve wanted each other for so long, we know who we are now. I just think, why waste time?” Lawrence continued, and Robert nodded eagerly in agreement. “There’s no shame in taking life by the reins, is there?”

Robert held back a smirk as Lawrence finished his food and tapped him on the leg to tell him to move his foot. He watched Lawrence clear their plates, stacking them on the tray, and when he came back to the table, he stood by Robert’s chair, and Robert glowed as a hand cupped his face, the grey man smiling down at him. He shifted his seat to face him, legs parted, mouth watering, gazing up at him. He really liked the idea of being fed Lawrence’s hard length for dessert.

But the man dropped to his knees instead, which was unexpected but perfectly fine by him. It was only when Lawrence retrieved the little black box from his bathrobe pocket that Robert realised – no, not his knees. One knee. _Oh. Oh my god_.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Robert. Will you marry me?” He opened the box, and sitting inside was a simple engagement ring. It was traditional, because it was Lawrence, of course it was. Silver, a slim band with a significant, round-cut diamond sat atop it, the kind of thing he’d bought Chrissie and that he’d known Aaron would’ve hated. He reminded himself that he should probably be breathing, gulped. His dream suddenly felt eerily close to home.

After Aaron, he didn’t think there would be anyone else. Marrying Aaron had been... Well, it had been _it_. There wouldn’t be anyone else for him, and nobody else could compare. Nobody else did. But he’d thought that without Aaron, he was nothing, alone, hopes dashed. His last real chance at a family had been as a Dingle, the only man who would understand him and still want him enough to be his husband was Aaron. Aaron, who knew everything, all of his darkest secrets and worst actions, and had married him at half an hour’s notice anyway. It was them or nothing, and Robert hadn’t minded at all, when it _had_ been them.

Now it was nothing. Aaron hated him, rightfully so. He was still wearing his ring, mourning the marriage they never really had, not yet prepared to accept that he’d be alone for the rest of his life, though it was the truth. Or he’d thought it had been. Of all people, Lawrence wanted to keep him too, a man he’d lusted after and been drawn like a magnet to for the best part of a decade. And the man might not know everything, but he knew a lot of it, and Robert didn’t have to be alone anymore. He was reaching out for him before he knew it.

“Yes,” he rasped, and Lawrence was laughing with glee and relief, pulling him down by the back of the neck to kiss him. He took the blonde’s left hand, carefully touched the metal band already on it.

“May I?” he asked, and it was about more than just taking it off. Tears warred at Robert’s eyes, and he paused before nodding. It was the right thing to do. Aaron was long past caring about him. Aaron didn’t want them to be husbands anymore. Aaron had taken his ring off months ago. He needed to move on, and Robert needed to let him. The grey band was slipped from his finger and sat on the table, the diamond replacing it. It fit perfectly, and Robert wondered how the hell Lawrence had remembered his ring size from so many years ago, when he’d been a different man, wedding planning with Chrissie.

The older man tenderly kissed his hand and pulled Robert to his feet with him. He embraced him, and as Robert pressed himself into the enveloping hold of his arms, heart thudding, he knew he’d made the right choice. He couldn’t be alone, not really – it would’ve killed him, slowly and achingly and awfully. He was getting a second chance, he could still barely believe it, and it might not be the scenario he’d imagined, but it was safe, and he had someone. He was loved.

He’d tell Lawrence the truth, about everything, about how they got there, about their apparent first time, about leading him on... He would, one day… When he felt ready to be alone… But not today. Today he was pulling Lawrence back to their hotel bed in the Willow Suite and spending the night making love, like he’d done many a time with Aaron.


End file.
